The Capitol's Turn- The 76th Games
by DeathbladeMeister
Summary: The war was lost and the decision was made. The Capitol children will compete in the Hunger Games. But now it has a sick twist. Those children fought for their lives. These fight for their deaths.
1. Chapter 1

When I woke on the day we had all been dreading, I knew it; I had to be the one chosen.

We had lost the war and the Hunger Games had changed. Now it was us, the Capitol children, who were to be reaped. It would be just once; not seventy- five times, but once was bad enough. Now we knew the fear the districts had felt. Fear for their children. Fear for your family. Fear for our very lives.

For me, it is slightly safer. Being female, you have one less chance of death. We all know for certain that Cressida Snow will be reaped. The rebels will make sure of that. But that did not change the fact that twenty- three others, with no political power or ties to the government, would be chosen to be sent to the slaughter. The Avoxes that had once been our slaves had grinned at us for weeks, with their grotesque mouths and mutilated tongues. Even if the districts feel sorry for us, views will be high. Our families will be forced to watch, and our servants will revel in the bloodshed. I suppose Everdeen and her family will watch to, and laugh at the seeming justice. I hate her so. It was her vote that has doomed us, and I am certain that she, her idiot fiancé and her drunken mentor will love every minute.

The Pepin cell- where I now lie- is desolate. My father, a retired Peacekeeper, was killed in the final attack. My mother sleeps across the room, holding onto a shrunken head. The head is burned and blackened, with teeth missing and a faced contorted into an expression of pain. It's my brother, Mathias. He was killed in the same explosion that killed the Mockingjays' sister. I suppose that we have something in common. I would have killed myself long before the reaping if it weren't for him. He was the only reason I stayed alive for in the weeks of the final push. But now my mother cries constantly, sinking further and further into hysteria. If I get reaped today, she will have no-one but our Avox jailers. She will stay alive, but only as a demented wreck. But I must go, and I must win. I must go for two things. Firstly, for my brother. I must go to take my revenge. I cannot kill the one that did the deed, but there I make take my anger out on people that I know, perhaps even once cared about. My second reason; the reward.

In the original Hunger Games, you fought for your life. Now you fight for your death.

The 'reward' for this year is death. As soon as the ceremonies are over, you are to be executed, with your family, and others of your choice. If you lose, you family still dies, but in whatever horrible way you did. Some, when it was announced, saw it as folly, not having a real reward to fight for. Some, stupidly, still see it like that. But those of us that have lost everything, whose lives are not worth living, don't see it like that. Our lives are worthless now. For me and my mother, it will be a great justice. We were some of the firsts to surrender, believing life would go on. But we were stripped of our homes and possessions, and herded into family cells. The Avoxes guarding our families were especially cruel. They provided each family with a gun, with one bullet. They could choose to shoot a family member, if they so wished, but if they did, the rest would die of starvation. That night we heard many arguments, and many shots. It wasn't soon after that they used the able bodied to remove the dead. It was so wrong- these shells were people who had not eaten for weeks. They were swollen and skeletal at the same time. We had heard them scream and cry and moan through the walls of our cell, humans reduced to little more than cattle. But now dead, they looked so peaceful. Content, even. I want to know that contentment, and I want my mother to feel it too. But neither of us should suffer for it. So in order for us to finally be at peace, I, Comfrey Pepin, must win the Hunger Games.


	2. Chapter 2

The reaping was simple; you arrive, you stand in line, wait to be reaped. If you're not, go home. If you are, you're given a random district. I stand, wait and hope that my name is called. There are to be no volunteers.

Everywhere nervous children smooth down their shirts and rub creases out of dresses. Prettying themselves up in case they appear on camera. Some, like myself, haven't bothered. I've just got a grey pantsuit I was allowed to keep when we were captured.

The anthem begins and _she_ arrives. A year has done much for the Mockingjay. Instead of the morphling addict we last saw when she shot the two Presidents; she has become somewhat of a cruel beauty, reminiscent of the one we saw at the 74th Games. She smirks when she looks down; she's loving every minute.

"Children of the Capitol!" she cries. "In penance for your crimes, the Hunger Games will begin once more. You know the costs. You know the risks. But know let us know the participants!"

"Ladies first!" she giggles, in her awful fake Capitol accent.

She calls Cressida Snow first, unsurprisingly. Three girls I don't know. A pretty called Gaviota Tractatio, who sneers at Snow when she goes up. Another I don't know, younger, about thirteen, whose exit is by far the most dramatic. She screams, and tries to run. An Avox shoots. Two minutes later she is on the stage, crying.

Someone called Tempesta Algor, whom I vaguely recognise from school. An older girl named Lucinda Faraday, who sighs and meekly climbs the stairs. Two I don't recognise, who I think might be related. Someone called Delaney, who looks half starved. And then it's me. It has to be me…

It's not me. It's a girl who looks about eleven, Tamia Seville. I'm not listening to the boys. It's _her _fault. She is the one who killed my brother. She is the one who killed my father. She is the one who drove my mother to insanity. And _she _is the one keeping me alive to rub it in.

I decide then and there that I truly hate the Mockingjay.

She reads out the last name. "So, denizens of the Capitol, we have our champions! Is there anyone who wishes to volunteer for these brave young heroes?"

She's mocking us. Apt, I suppose, but it's clear what she expects. She expects us to be silent. She thinks that we are weak, we are cowards. We are neither of these things. We are Capitol, the shining light of Panem, and I refuse to stand down.

"I volunteer!" I gasp. "I volunteer as tribute!"

I run towards the stage at breakneck pace. Avoxes grab at my clothes as I tear through the crowds. I punch one in the face before another pins my arms behind my back. The one I punched, blood dripping down his face, smiles as he points a gun at my face. I shut my eyes and promise my brother I'll see him soon as I wait for him to pull the trigger…

"Stop, Amos."

I open my eyes and he's lowering his gun, staring at someone with distaste. I turn my head. It's her.

"What is your name, girl?"

I glare at her shoes. "Pepin. Comfrey Pepin."

She suddenly whips round and kicks me in the face. I hear my nose snap; there's a definite break. I taste metal on my tongue as I open my mouth to breathe. Through my pain I hear the Avox take the safety off his gun.

"No."

He lowers the weapon again, and looks infuriated now. Avoxes may not be able to speak, but they say a lot with their eyes. Anger. Irritation. And question.

"The girl obviously has a death wish. Why not let her fight it out? Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Comfrey Pepin, the twenty- fifth Champion of the Hunger Games!"

The crowd clap in fear as she raises my hand over her head. The expression on my face must be somewhat of a grimance. But inwardly, I grinned and thanked the Mockingjay.

And that is something I thought I'd never do.

* * *

**Two chapters! New record!**

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**Peace out, from the DBM.**


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